


Goodbye, My Love (Goodbye, My Friend)

by thebigbadgrounder



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:42:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebigbadgrounder/pseuds/thebigbadgrounder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke dies, Bellamy has a hard time with grieving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye, My Love (Goodbye, My Friend)

It had been exactly three weeks since Clarke had died. Three weeks where Bellamy insisted on joining every rescue mission and every attempt of coming to an agreement with the grounders, taking on morning and night shifts protecting the camp from any dangers that lurked in the woods. A mere distraction from the fact that he could no longer sleep unless his body was so deprived of it, he had no choice on the matter. Though, it was often a restless sleep and when he dreamed, it was of her. It was the same every time. He'd spot her by the water, blonde hair pulled back in a braid, much like the one she had when they had first landed on the ground. Her face was clear of any marks and bruises, and she was smiling, reaching for him, opening her mouth to say his name, but instead a scream would rip from her throat, sending painful chills throughout his body and she would cry and beg for the pain to stop, beg for him to help her. "Bellamy! Bellamy! Please!" She would call out. "Please, don't let me die out here!" That's when he'd start running towards her, and she'd be pulled farther and farther away, his name a constant echo in the distance, and every time this happened, he'd reassure her that he was coming for her, that he would protect her, and every time he reached her, it was always a moment too late. She was gone. Just a cold, lifeless body in his arms…and then he'd wake up, the words I love you still on his lips.

It had been three weeks since Clarke had died, and Bellamy still hadn't allowed himself to cry.

It was pretty clear that the others were concerned. Some were even doubting his ability to lead at this point, under the circumstances. But he'd prove them wrong. He was strong. He would endure. He had lost many things throughout his life, including his own mother, this was just another casualty to add to the list.

He hated himself for even thinking such a thing.

Really, he hated himself for a lot of reasons. Losing Clarke was one of them.

"I'm going to call it a night." He mumbled over his shoulder, to a fellow guard resting against a nearby tree. The man didn't say much of anything, save for a quiet "sounds good." Everybody in camp knew what had happened, knew the impact it had had on certain people, especially those who were part of The 100. Most, also knew, that particular people, like Bellamy, were better left unprovoked by questions like "How are you holding up?" "Do you need something?" "Why don't you take a day off?" Luckily for both of them, this guard was one of them.

Bellamy briefly stopped by his tent, grabbing hold of the alcohol Monty had gifted him. (A little reluctantly, but he didn't have it in him to deny Bellamy much of anything these days. Something inside of him broke the day Clarke died, he couldn't even imagine what it was like for Bellamy.)

Shoving the alcohol in his back pocket, he made his way over to the table he noticed Octavia, Raven, Monty and Jasper sitting at. They didn't look happy and if you stared in their eyes long enough, there was a deep, cold kind of sadness that lived there these days, but each one of them had a small smile gracing their features. Something he hadn't done himself since…

"That's definitely something Clarke would do." Raven laughed lightly, unaware that Bellamy was close enough to overhear what she was saying. Just the sound of her name felt like a punch in the gut. Octavia laughed along with her.

"None of them would stand a chance. She'd— Oh, Bell!" Octavia's eyes widened a little when she realized her brother was there. The group had a hard time navigating through Bellamy's way of grieving. They decided a couple weeks ago, that not mentioning her around him was the safest way to go, no matter how sad that made them feel. They didn't like the idea of pretending it never happened, but it felt like her name was a trigger for him, and the last thing Octavia wanted, was to remind him of their loss. Of his loss.

She thought back to that time, she witnessed them first hug. A time where they had both thought the other dead, but they had only been good friends back then. So many things had changed…something happened, that she thought she'd never see.

Her brother falling in love.

Bellamy's jaw tightened, and he walked passed the table, ignoring them when they called out his name. He walked passed the tents, the people, the noise, and he kept on walking until he was alone, with nothing but the trees and the wind and the stars, and whatever creatures roamed nearby. He dropped his head back as he took a large gulp of whatever concoction Monty had come up with this time, and relished in the burn that traveled down his throat.

"What were you doing, Clarke?" His words were soft, but harsh as he moved between the trees. "Always thinking about everybody else, never considering your own safety. Never considering that maybe, just maybe, I can't do this without you." He was fuming, and it was never a good idea to to mix alcohol and anger, and he knew this, but here he was, just another fool in love. Just another fool, with a broken heart and an emptiness inside that seemed to engulf him.

He didn't know where he was going, and there was a fifty percent chance or more he could end up getting himself killed, but worst of all, the idea didn't frighten him. He felt… indifference. Maybe part of him even welcomed it.

He didn't know. He didn't care.

Suddenly, everything seemed to light up around him, as if the stars had found their way to earth. He looked up, to find the trees and plants glowing a bright, blue. At first he thought, maybe he was seeing things. Maybe the alcohol was already starting to kick in. That's when he remembered, this one time Clarke told him a story. Her cheek had been warm against his skin, as she rested her head on his chest, while one arm had been draped around his waist. It hadn't been the first time she had slept in his tent, but it had still been a new thing for them. She had started telling him about the first night she spent on Earth. How she had woken up to one of the most beautiful sights she had ever laid her eyes on. She explained, in great detail, what she had seen and how it had made her feel, and here, right in this moment, he was feeling it for himself.

It was the first time since she had died, that he felt her nearby. Like maybe if he reached out, he would be able to touch her, feel her, kiss her, and hold her again.

That's when he finally started to cry. An ugly, desperate, sad kind of noise. It vibrated through his entire body, and soon he was no longer able to stand. He fell to his knees, the ground hard and cold beneath him.

"I miss you." He called out, his voice breaking the second he spoke. He let go of the bottle he was holding, alcohol spilling onto the dirt around him as he brought his hands to his face and screamed. He screamed until he was breathless and his throat raw. He screamed until he felt like maybe, he was going to be sick. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed, until it became physically impossible for him to scream anymore, and then he smashed the bottle against a nearby tree and wept, his cheek resting against the ground.

Every single thing that had happened to them before and after Clarke's death, had eaten away at him slowly, leaving behind a broken shell of a man, who was still just a boy in so many ways.

A boy who was responsible for another life the day his baby sister was born. A boy who lost his mother too young, who became a leader, when he didn't know how to use his power responsibly, who's actions unintentionally led to the deaths of 300 people, who couldn't save all the lives of the kids who were sent to the ground to die, who wasn't able to protect the one person, besides his sister, that he relied on the most. That he cared for the most. That he loved, with not only his heart, but his soul. A love he didn't think he was capable of.

A love that wasn't enough to keep her alive.

"I'm so sorry, Clarke. I let you down. I promised I'd never let anything happ- happen to you, but I let you down. I hope- I just hope you can forgive me. I know I don't- I don't deserve it. I never have. But you've forgiven me before- Please, just do this for me. Please."

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and for a split second, he thought she had come back to him. For a split second, he believed she was there.

"Bell..." Octavia's voice was gentle as she forced him too look at her. He noticed the tears, silently rolling down her cheeks, and she noticed the way he trembled beneath her touch.

She sat on the ground next to him, and next thing she knew, his head was in her lap and he was clinging to her, like she used to do when they were children and she had just woken up from a nightmare. She bit back the sob that almost slipped through her lips, as her fingers ran through his hair.

"I'm right here." She whispered. "I'm right here, and I will help you through this." Her eyes darted toward the sky.

For Clarke.


End file.
